


a swell affair

by ellipsisthegreat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, Mirror Universe, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsisthegreat/pseuds/ellipsisthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had expected a lot of things, entering into this affair. None of them involved the hypospray that pressed into the neck of her lover, then her, before they even noticed McCoy leaving his spot in the doorway. A prequel to <a href="http://ellipsisthgreat.livejournal.com/16978.html">a dark sort of love</a>, detailing the end of McCoy’s first marriage. Past McCoy/Jocelyn, Jocelyn/Clay, mirror-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a swell affair

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Star Trek and everything affiliated with it belongs to Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams, and all those other cool cats who own it.

“It was a swell affair;  
unusually honest,   
dangerously uncomplicated.”

-from [The After-Glow](http://poisontoniclx.deviantart.com/art/The-After-Glow-110753078) (by me)

  


The McCoy family was infamous for their passionate emotional outbursts, and Leonard McCoy was no exception. He was more the epitome of the McCoy name than any other—a healer with a vicious streak, as likely to snarl and cuss as he was to hypospray a person out of commission. There were some who said he wore his heart on his sleeve, but those who knew him well knew his bouts of anger were as neat a façade as any passive Vulcan stare.

Jocelyn Darnell McCoy, as it turned out, did not know her husband well. Not that this would have surprised anyone who knew of their marriage, a political move by her parents to rise in power, and by his to fill their pockets.

So when he walked in on her and the man she had taken as her lover, she expected shouting and cursing, threats and bluster. She knew he had some feelings for her, and hoped this would break him enough that she could finally achieve the control over him that had as yet eluded her.

What she got was silence.

She smirked at him, gratified in the knowledge that she had struck him dumb. She dug her nails in Clay’s shoulders, urging him on.

She had expected a lot of things, entering into this affair.

None of them included the hypospray that pressed into the neck of her lover, then her, before they even noticed McCoy leaving his spot in the doorway.

(YOUWOULDFINDMEAFORMIDABLEPAGEBREAK)

“Wake up, Jocelyn.” If there was one thing that might endear her husband to her, it was his voice. Warm like honey, oozing southern charm (when he was of a mind), it broadcast his emotions like a radio tower from centuries past.

Now it was cold; emotionless as any Vulcan she had ever heard. For the first time in a long time, she felt her stomach clench with fear.

“Open your eyes,” McCoy said. She did, and choked back a horrified cry. Clay’s body hung a few feet away, skinned clean and dripping blood on the floor. She thought for a moment he must be dead, but then his chest moved and his eyes flickered toward her.

“Leonard,” she said, the word coming out as a ragged sob.

“Hush, darlin’,” he said. “I don’t particularly want to gag you, but I will if you insist on blubbering. I’d be much obliged if you limited your noise to screaming.”

“Leonard, please,” she said. “Please don’t.”

“You made a mistake, Joss,” he said. He stroked her cheek almost fondly before turning to watch a rat sniff curiously at Clay’s skinless toe. “I’m sure you chose him because you thought he’d piss me off the most, which is true, but he’s a nobody. A younger son of a minor noble, high class enough to afford your interest but not much else. Oh, Jocelyn, sweetheart.” He practically cooed her name in a way he’d not used even in their bedroom.

Clay jerked in his bonds as the rat bit down, unable to properly scream for the neat little stitches sealing his lips together.

“If you’d gone with someone more powerful than me, you’d have had protection. Surely you didn’t actually think I loved you?” He chuckled, dark and sinister. “So now you’ll suffer my full wrath, and your poor, hapless little lover will, too.”

“Please,” she said again, barely able to force the word out around the lump in her throat.

“Maybe if you’d begged this pretty in bed, sugar.” He patted her cheek and straightened, kicking a rat away from his feet and toward Clay’s shuddering form. Back to her, he pulled on a glove, flexing his fingers in the latex before putting on the other.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. “It’s yours, I swear it’s yours.”

“I know,” he said. With all the deadly elegance she had once admired in him, he picked up one of his antique scalpels. Twirling it idly between his fingers, he asked, “What do you think the incubator is for?”

She pushed herself backward, as far away from him as she could get with the chains binding her to the ceiling and floor. He approached, the surgical mask over his mouth doing nothing to conceal the smirk reflected in his eyes.

“Now hush ‘til I give you something to scream about.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I have lots of other things I should be writing…so of course I wrote a prequel to my MU fic. \o/


End file.
